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But she doesn’t say anything.
It’s hard to keep the tears at bay, but I manage. Because no matter what happens to me, Rose White will never change. She will never open up to me and will only bring me trouble. I already have a monster in my life, but at least I can manage Conor because I hate him and what he does only hurts physically. Rose breaks my heart repeatedly.
I take one step outside.
That’s when I feel her hand wrap around my wrist. My heart explodes in my ribcage exactly the way I forbid it to. She drags me back and wraps me in a hug from behind.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers in my ear. “Rachel…I’m sorry.” My wrist is still in her hand, she’s holding it tight against my chest, and my free hand comes to rest on her other arm around my waist. “The truth will break your heart more than I ever did. But if you want it, it’s yours.”
I nod, the back of my head hitting her neck as she holds me tighter. I don’t know why I always thought it would go differently. I thought we would sit down somewhere—in my imagination, it was on her bed—and hold hands. We would share tears and cry together. Because no matter what, I know it’s bad.
But no, she just holds me tightly, my back to her front, her grip vice-like, and her hoarse voice just above me. She’s tall enough that her chin rests on the top of my head. The door is open in front of me and the cold wraps us in a blanket of dread.
Goosebumps rise on both our arms. The moon enhances my pale skin against her tanned one. The wind whistles in my ear until her broken words replace it.
19
ROSE
Bleach- Call Me Karizma
9 years old
“Rose,mia bella rosa,” Mateo whispers. “Ms. Hobbcomb is here. She’s reviewing your case. It’s our one-year review. You know what that means?” He’s standing in front of me in his office while I sit on the desk, dangling my feet into emptiness. I take another lick of the chocolate ice cream he gave me and nod. I hate when he watches me eat, but I also love chocolate ice cream. It’s a fight I was happy to lose.
“She’s going to see if you’re a good dad.”
“I’m not your dad,” he corrects. Tomato, to-mah-to. I hope he adopts us soon. That’s why I keep telling him he’s my dad. “But we’ll be family one day, if we all behave.” He shifts slightly closer to put a strand of my wild, black hair behind my ear.
I always liked Mateo’s cologne. He smells clean and robust. My favorite time to hug him is after he shaves in the morning. His face is smooth against my cheeks, and he smells of comfiness. He takes time out of his busy schedule to come and wake me up with a hug every. Single. Morning. I wonder if he does this with all the other kids; I like to think he doesn’t and I’m his favorite.
If I’m his favorite, he’ll adopt me and have to adopt Jake and Nate too. Maybe I can convince him to take in Sam? I don’t like Sam’s dad and I never met his mom.
A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, thinking of all our futures together. If Mateo finds a mom for me, we’ll be the perfect family. I can’t wait.
“She’s early,” I say in-between two licks. “It hasn’t been a year.”
“You’re so observant, aren’t you, my little princess?”
I nod hard. I love it when he calls me his princess. And I am observant. Our at-home teacher, Ms. Johns, says I’m really smart. I’m glad he noticed it too.
“Ms. Hobbcomb is doing me a favor because I’ll be away for business soon. So, she came a little early. It’s better we keep that to ourselves.Capisci?”
“Capito,” I reply excitedly. I always get giddy when he talks in Italian, and I understand it. I want him to teach me more. He says I look like an Italian Princess. I think I do too, I’m very beautiful and tanned like him.
“Behave, okay?” he finally says. “You’re always so good, don’t change now. Promise?”
I nod. “Yes.”
My ice cream disappears mid-lick, and I gasp.
“Rose?” He holds the ice cream away from me.
I don’t roll my eyes because I know he hates it. “Yes,Sir,” I huff, insisting on the Sir. Soon, it’ll be ‘dad’, and nothing can stop that.
“I don’t understand,” I shriek as Mateo pushes me to the floor. My hands go in front of me to avoid crashing too hard against the unforgiving parquet. Still, my palms rub painfully against the old, red Persian rug, and my knees hurt when they hit the floor.
I’m lost. The yearly review went perfectly. Ms. Hobbcomb said she was happy for us to stay here. I was good, like I promised. I didn’t even mention that the review was a month early. Mateo seemed so happy; he had that look in his eyes he always gets when he talks about adopting us. They shine with pride and love.
